Chapter Twenty-One
The Grimes were taking Rick to a math tournament. A math tournament, of all things, and Shane was never going to let him live that one down. But after days of pleas and promises, the Sheriff and his wife had acquiesced to allowing Shane and Daryl to remain at home while the rest of the family headed off to Atlanta for the weekend.
When Friday afternoon rolled around and the Grimes left the building, Shane and Daryl were excited. But instead of breaking out the beer and inviting over every teen within a fifty mile radius, the shades were drawn and clothes thrown into the corner before the Grimes had so much as made it down the block.
"C'mon," Shane groaned, overeager, as he dragged the younger Dixon upstairs. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon."
He deposited Daryl on the Grimes' bed—the one they had once shared—before skipping into the bathroom to fill up the Jacuzzi.
"They're gonna know we used it!" Daryl called after him, lying back on the bed and flicking on the TV in the meantime.
"It'll be worth it!" Shane called back.
Sighing, Daryl refocused his attention on the images flashing across the screen. The news never interested him much, especially when half of it was overrun with reports on county fairs and a significant lack of weather. But then a familiar face popped up on the screen, and Daryl's blood ran cold.
Dropping to his knees in front of the television, Daryl turned up the volume just enough to hear it himself.
Police have reported little progress in the ongoing investigation of the murder of Burt Philips, security guard at Bauman Jewelry. However, witness testimony has allowed sketch experts to compose this drawing of a "person of interest" in this heinous crime. If you have any information about the man depicted below, please call the number at the bottom of the screen. Be aware that this man is known to be armed and dangerous, and should not be approached or engaged in any way.
And that was it. The reporter switched to a story about the upcoming State Fair, and Daryl was left gaping at the screen, face pale as a sheet.
He'd never forget Cash's face. Not after watching him end an innocent person's life without a second thought. Despite his disappearance, that no-good felon still haunted his nightmares. And with his face now plastered all over the evening news, Daryl was sure Cash wouldn't stay missing for long.
"Daryl, you comin'?" Shane called from the bathroom.
The younger boy scrubbed a hand over his face, and pinched at his jaw to try to get some color back.
"M'here," Daryl murmured, walking slowly into the room. The tub was a mess of bubbles, and Shane was looking more than a little bit proud of himself.
Shane took in Daryl's expression and immediately moved forwards to sweep him into his arms, guiding him gently towards the bath.
"You alright?" Shane whispered.
Daryl clenched his eyes shut, briefly, and pushed his face into the crook of Shane's neck.
"Yeah," he mumbled after a beat, "Just…cold."
Shane pushed his bangs out of his face. "Well, I think I've got just the thing for that."
The jock situated himself with his back against the porcelain, then helped Daryl to slowly sink down between his splayed legs. He leaned back into Shane's strong chest with a sigh.
"Told ya you'd like it," Shane murmured in Daryl's ear.
The archer snorted. "Yeah. But that's what ya say 'bout everythin' I ain't sure of."
Shane laughed, and water splashed around them. "And I'm always right!"
Daryl elbowed him in the ribs, but with hardly any force. "Shut up."
Shane quieted his snickering and instead focused his attention on running his slick hands up and down Daryl's chest. He flicked and pinched at the red nubs of his nipples, hard even under the warm water, and Daryl rolled his head back onto Shane's shoulder. By the time Shane's hands swirled and lazed their way all the way down Daryl's body, the boy in his lap was achingly hard.
"Told ya so," Shane said softly, taking the stiff length in hand and stroking gently.
Daryl's back arched slightly and he let out a small sigh. "Well I ain't the only one likin' it," Daryl pointed out, shifting pointedly against the thick, soft, rod poking into the small of his back.
"Damn straight," Shane growled against Daryl's neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. With his free appendage, he grabbed Daryl's hand and guided it down between the boy's legs.
"Watcha doin'?" Daryl murmured, lost in the feel of Shane's fist wrapped around his aching length.
"You ever touch yourself here before?" Shane asked in turn, an echo of a question he'd asked months before. And even though Daryl had been touched there, many times by now, his answer was still the same.
"No," Daryl whispered, "Just…just you."
Shane groaned and bucked up against Daryl involuntarily.
"Fuck, you've got no idea how hot that is," Shane moaned, "But now…fuck, now I wanna see you do it." Daryl tensed a little, and Shane added, "It's okay, baby. I'll show you how."
With a deep breath, Daryl let Shane drag his hand further down.
"That's it," Shane murmured, stroking over Daryl's knuckles as he pushed one finger slowly inside. "That's right, Daryl. Go nice and slow for me."
Daryl whined softly as he moved his finger in and out. Then with Shane's gentle prodding, one finger became two.
"Ya gotta curve 'em," Shane instructed, demonstrating with his own fingers, "Like this."
The younger Dixon did as he said, and his entire body immediately jolted as he brushed over his prostate just right.
"Fuck," Daryl panted, writhing against his own fingers now. Shane's hand rolled and fondled over the archer's erection, keeping him wanting, but failing to provide the friction he'd need to get off.
Finally, Shane couldn't help himself. He reached his free hand down between Daryl's legs and abruptly slid a finger in beside Daryl's. The younger boy's eyes burst open, and he moaned deeply.
"Look at you," Shane said, "So fuckin' good for me. Ridin' those fingers like you were made for it." He forced the fingers inside Daryl's ass to press harder against his prostate, and Daryl's cock twitched in his hand. "You want somethin' else to ride?"
Shane whispered the words against the back of Daryl's ear, and smiled when a shudder ripped its way down the younger boy's spine.
Some rapid nodding, and Shane's large hands were clamped over Daryl's hips as the teen sank down onto his cock. Daryl threw his head back onto Shane's shoulder again and panted up at the ceiling.
"Fuck," Daryl whimpered, "Fuck. Fuck."
"Not quite," Shane chuckled back, the movement of his body creating delicious friction between them. "Can't be getting water all over the floor, now, can we? Gonna have to be nice and slow about it. Think you can do that, Daryl?"
Shane punctuated the statement by rocking up into Daryl's body while simultaneously twisting his fist around the head of his aching cock. The younger boy whimpered into Shane's neck, and one of his hands shot down to grip the side of the tub like it was his last lifeline.
They developed a slow rhythm. Shane eased Daryl up and down, movements smooth as silk. It took all of his self control to keep from bucking up into the blinding heat of Daryl's body, but now that they finally had the opportunity to take their time with each other, Shane didn't want to waste it. He wasn't going to cave until Daryl was begging for it.
It didn't take long.
"Fuckin' love you like this," Shane whispered, grazing a hand down Daryl's chest. "You need it so bad, huh Daryl? Need me to take care of you."
Daryl nodded with his eyes clenched shut. "Shane, please…"
"Please, what, Daryl? What do you want?"
The younger boy's feet scrambled for purchase against the smooth floor of the tub, trying and failing to bring himself down harder against Shane's cock.
"Wanna come," Daryl bit out desperately, "Need to come, Shane."
"Yeah?" Shane teased, keeping up that same slow rhythm with his hips and his hands. "What's stopping you?"
It was a heady rush to control Daryl like this, literally possessing the archer's body inside and out. From this angle, it was all on Shane to move the younger Dixon's tight form up and down his rigid length. He could feel the way Daryl's body trembled with every rough jab against his prostate. And even under the water, the low throb of Daryl's cock couldn't be ignored.
Shane cupped Daryl's balls with one hand, and used the other to move the smaller boy faster against him. Water threatened to slosh over the edge of the tub, but the drag of their bodies together was just too damn good.
Daryl's breaths were coming out harsh and shallow, and Shane could feel his thighs trembling.
"Please. Please…"
Shane's hips jutted up hard into Daryl's body, and his fist gave the younger boy one strong stroke.
That was all it took. Daryl tensed up taut as steel above him, and then abruptly melted into Shane's body.
"Shane. Oh. Oh, fuck…" Daryl moaned. His cock twitched and jerked in the older boy's hand, shooting strings of white out into the water.
The feel of Daryl clenching around him was more than enough have Shane coming right along with him, holding Daryl tight to his chest as he rode out the aftershocks.
They fell into bed together still damp, both slipping into sleep with smiles on their faces.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
Shane woke up hard against Daryl's hip, already grinning at the prospect of spending the rest of the weekend naked in bed together.
He could feel Daryl shivering next to him, maybe just as turned on as he was.
"Mornin'," Shane murmured into Daryl's neck. There was a pause. No response.
Shane frowned and propped himself on one elbow, reaching over Daryl's back to turn the boy towards him.
Daryl fought him, shaking even harder and curling in on himself. It was only then that Shane registered the unbridled heat coming off of Daryl's body.
"Daryl?" Shane whispered. He pressed a hand to the younger boy's forehead, and hissed at the flame licking out from under his skin. "Shit," Shane muttered, "You're burning up."
Shane hopped out of bed and went straight for the bathroom, grabbing some Aspirin and a bottle of water. He got down on the floor on Daryl's side of the bed and combed his fingers through the boy's sweat-damp locks.
"Daryl?" Shane tried again, "Need you to take these for me, okay? Just a little sip, then you can go back to sleep."
Bloodshot eyes flickered open and he gave the slightest nod. With Shane's help, Daryl sat up enough to down a few pills. Even the small exertion seemed to leave him exhausted.
"That's better," Shane murmured soothingly, "Now ya just gotta get some rest. Get this out of your system."
No sooner had he said it than Daryl bolted up in bed with wide eyes. He lurched past Shane and straight for the bathroom, expelling all the contents of his stomach into the toilet.
Daryl slumped against the wall, shaking from head to toe. It took a long while before the heaving stopped. When it finally did, Shane watched closely as Daryl struggled to get to his feet. One step, and the archer was plummeting towards the floor, only to be saved by Shane's quick reflexes.
The jock helped him back into bed and tucked him under the covers.
"Think you can try to take some Aspirin again?" Shane asked him.
Daryl only shuddered, shaking his head. "Hurts," he rasped, his voice an echo of its usual timbre, "Think…think I'll just puke 'em back up."
"That's okay," Shane said, "We can try again in a little while. Is it just your stomach, and the fever?"
Daryl's teeth chattered as he stuttered out, "D-d-don't feel good." He seemed to want to say more, but then his vision swam and he curled back up into the bed.
"Yeah, I know. But I'll take care of you, alright? Just get some sleep."
Daryl passed out almost immediately after.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
Two hours of checking on Daryl every ten minutes, and Shane figured it was well time for the younger boy to get some fluids into him. The fever had only been climbing, as far as Shane could tell. And despite Daryl's shivering, he was sweating straight through the sheets.
Shane knelt down beside him and shook Daryl's shoulder gently.
"Daryl?"
The archer's eyes darted back and forth behind his lids, but Daryl didn't rouse.
Shane shook him harder. "Daryl?!"
Still nothing, and Shane was immediately on his feet, pacing. He grabbed Daryl's phone up off of the bedside table and called the only number he could.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
There was a heavy knock on the front door. It rattled the windows, and Shane rushed to answer it.
"Where is he?"
Shane jerked his head towards the back of the house. Broad shoulders pushed right past him and barreled towards Daryl's bedroom.
The man stopped just inside the doorframe and let out a long breath through his nose.
Daryl looked even worse than before. All the color had drained from his face, and his skin was balmy with sweat. Even in his sleep, tremors tore through his body. His breathing was uneven, and far too fast.
"Shit."
"He won't wake up," Shane quickly informed, "Tried to give him some Aspirin for the fever, but he couldn't keep it down. I…I didn't know who else to call."
Heavy footfalls padded up to the side of Daryl's bed, and a large paw laid itself over the sick teen's forehead.
"Jesus. He's like a fuckin' furnace." He looked back at Shane. "We gotta cool him down. If he ain't takin' pills, then I reckon there's one other way we can do it. But he ain't gonna love us for it."
Shane tried to smile, but his lips refused to perk from their grimly set line. "Doesn't matter, as long as it gets him to wake up."
The man nodded, then turned back to Daryl. "Alright, baby brother. Let's do this."
Merle picked up his younger brother bridal style, and carried him into the bathroom. Shane pumped up the cold water in the shower by the older Dixon's request. And with a deep breath, Merle stepped in along with Daryl, and sat down with his back against the wall.
The younger Dixon gasped, flailed, and very abruptly reanimated.
"S-s-stop. Stop," Daryl begged, fighting weakly against Merle's grip.
Merle only held him tighter. "C'mon, brother. Gotta cool you down. Can't have ya goin' up in flames and takin' out this nice house with ya."
Daryl shook like a leaf in Merle's arms, sobbing into his chest with every full breath he managed to pull in. Between his ceaseless trembling and distressed gasps, neither Shane nor Merle could make out much of what Daryl was saying. They were grateful for it. But it was easy enough to tell from his tone that the younger Dixon was suffering.
Shane knelt beside the tub. "Just a little bit longer," he murmured, "We're just tryin' to help, Daryl. I swear. You're doin' so good."
Daryl didn't respond. He hunched further into Merle's chest, if only for the promise of some fleeting warmth.
The jock was surprised to see Merle roughly run his fingers through Daryl's hair.
"He's right, brother. You're doin' real good," Merle said softly. "Almost done, now."
It was several more minutes of Merle's uncharacteristically gentle, soothing words and Daryl's muffled whimpering, before Merle and Shane shared a nod of understanding, and worked together to get Daryl up and back towards the bed.
Once they'd managed to get him into a dry set of clothes, Merle looked to Shane.
"You stay with him. Cold shower ain't gonna work for long if we don't get some drugs into him," Merle said.
"I know, but he couldn't keep it down. Took so long for him to calm down the first time, I couldn't get him to try again," Shane sighed.
"Yeah, well, that's why I'm here," Merle replied gruffly. "Got just the thing for it. Old family recipe."
With that, Merle left Shane to care for his still-shivering brother. Shane cradled the younger boy in his arms and waited anxiously for Merle to return.
The cup Merle toted back into the room was steaming; and the liquid inside was an odd greenish color that couldn't have been natural.
"Prop his head up," Merle ordered. He placed the lip of the mug against Daryl's mouth, pinched his brother's nose shut, and tipped the mystery fluid back into the sick boy's waiting throat.
Daryl wheezed when Merle finally pulled back, coughing up a storm.
"Did you really have to do it that way?" Shane groused, rubbing Daryl's back slowly and trying to calm him.
Merle shrugged. "His stomach will take this stuff just fine. But it ain't exactly lemonade."
Shane peered hesitantly into the half-filled cup. "What's in it?"
Merle grinned darkly. "This an' that. With some crushed-up Aspirin on top of it. Oughta get that fever down in the next couple hours. Save us all some grief."
Shane nodded and let out a slow breath, then chuckled to himself.
"What?" Merle prodded, frowning hard at him.
"Nothing," Shane said, trying to curtail his smile, "S'just...never thought I'd see the day Merle Dixon saved my ass."
The elder Dixon continued to glower at him. "Ain't your ass I'm savin'. It's Daryl's."
Shane cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Same thing," Shane replied simply.
And Merle didn't know quite what to say to that, so he said nothing at all.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
Once they'd forced the rest of the putrid liquid down Daryl's gullet, he fell back asleep almost instantly. Daryl lay curled up in the center of the bed, with Shane and Merle on either side. The only sound in the house was his labored breathing.
Merle feigned flipping through some magazines to pass the time, but Shane couldn't hide the fixed way he watched Daryl.
He understood that the younger boy wasn't dying. But there was something about seeing him laid up like this, so helpless and weak, and in so much pain, that made Shane's guts twist up in knots. It wasn't right, seeing Daryl bedbound. The archer made a habit of never keeping still, always out trekking through the woods or pacing the length of his room or fiddling with his bow. Shane watched him now, and couldn't help but think that Daryl looked too still.
Too still, and not at all peaceful.
As Shane watched, Daryl twitched, flinched, then shot up in bed with a pained gasp. There was panic in his eyes. Blue orbs darted back and forth across the room manically, but took in nothing.
"Woah, Daryl, it's okay," Shane tried.
"He's coming," Daryl whispered, looking Shane right in the eye. His lower lip wobbled. "Don't let him do it again. Please don't let him do it. Don't let him..."
"Shh, shh," Shane soothed, pulling Daryl into his chest without giving Merle a second glance.
Even though Daryl had been going longer and longer between these bouts of nightmares, this scene wasn't unfamiliar to Shane. Sometimes the blue eyes that shot open were the same ones Shane had fallen in love with. The hesitant, hardened gaze of his lover, trying his best to beat back the demons of his past.
Other times, the teary eyes that met his were another person's entirely. Vulnerable, younger, and so very afraid. Those fleeting moments of regression always broke Shane's heart, but the trick was to let Daryl come down easy. Once he'd registered his surroundings, recognized Shane at his side, the archer would lay back again with a sigh and let Shane comfort him through it.
But now, Daryl seemed to recognize nothing. As Shane gently petted Daryl's head and back, he could feel wetness on the other boy's cheeks.
"He don't even get drunk for it, anymore," Daryl mumbled into Shane's neck, "He ain't sick, like my Ma said. He just...he just likes it. I think he just likes it."
"He's not gonna hurt you," Shane told him gently, "You're safe, Daryl. He's never gonna hurt you again."
"Yeah, he is," Daryl whispered. "He's gonna kill me. He hates me." Shane saw Merle clench his fists out of the corner of his eye. "He won't tell me why," Daryl rasped quietly, "He says somethin' different, every time. If I just knew what I did, I could fix it. M-maybe, maybe then he'd stop, maybe if I just—"
"Hey, hey," Shane cut him off, just as Merle hissed in an angry breath. "Don't do that. You didn't do anything wrong. Okay? Nothing."
"Gotta be somethin'," Daryl whimpered, "There's gotta be. Otherwise he'd stop—"
"He's gonna stop," Shane interrupted him again, bracketing that train of thought. "He's never gonna hurt you again, Daryl. You hear me? You wanna know why?"
Daryl let out a low hum of interest.
"Because I ain't gonna let him. That bastard's never comin' near you again. Alright? I promise you. I'll protect you, Daryl. Swear to god I will."
Daryl gnawed on his lip a beat before murmuring, "Y'will?"
"Bet your ass I will," Shane said back, trying to lighten the mood, if only slightly. "Now why dontcha try and get s'more sleep? Bet you're real tired, huh?"
Daryl nodded reluctantly. "A little," he admitted.
"Just close your eyes for a while," Shane urged him with a warm smile, "You'll feel better."
He watched Daryl's lids droop, but the archer refused to be lulled so easily.
"You're gonna stay?" Daryl finally questioned, voice painfully small.
"I'm not going anywhere," Shane confirmed. "I promise."
At long last, the fight seeped out of Daryl's body and the younger Dixon drifted back off. Shane could feel the tension radiating in thick waves from the other Dixon in the room, but it was a long while before Merle managed to sort through his thoughts well enough to voice them.
'That happen a lot?" he asked, looking Shane in the eye for the first time in hours.
"Which part? The nightmares or...the other thing?"
"Both. Either."
Shane sighed. "The nightmares come 'n go. They pop up more when he's stressed, so bein' sick like this is bound to set him off. As for the other thing...once in a blue moon. Usually he's fine after a minute or two—once he remembers where he is. But with him this out of it..."
Merle was quiet for several minutes, before he drawled, "It's a miracle he don't fuckin' hate me."
Shane gave him a long look. "He ain't never gonna hate you. Not really. You're his brother."
"Yeah, and look what that got him," Merle laughed humorlessly. "A fucked up back and a head full of nightmares."
Shane rubbed hand over the back of his head.
"Look, I ain't sayin' there ain't stuff ya did wrong. But you didn't give him those scars. And you ain't the one chasin' him in his nightmares," Shane said pointedly. "You didn't make your dad the way he is. Daryl knows that. You gotta know that too. The way I figure it...it's a miracle either one of y'all made it out of that house alive."
Merle nodded slowly. "Ya know, you ain't the annoying little shit I thought you were when we first met."
Shane bit out a laugh. "Yeah. And you ain't the racist asshole I thought, neither. Sometimes."
Merle cracked his knuckles methodically. "You love him?"
"Yeah," Shane replied, without any hesitation, or any rush.
Merle crossed his arms over his chest and lay back against the pillows, letting his eyes fall shut.
"Good," he said.
TWDTWDTWDTWD
Daryl woke up warm and comfortable. The feel of Shane pressed up against his side wasn't at all unfamiliar, but when he realized that there was another warm body at his back, Daryl sat up in bed abruptly.
"Go back to sleep," Merle grumbled into his pillow.
Daryl stared at him in confusion, then looked to Shane. And even without cracking his eyes open, Shane mumbled, "What he said. You're fine."
The younger Dixon sat back against the headboard and tried to sort through is memories. But everything since the Jacuzzi melted together unintelligibly, a mishmash of vibrant memories, only half of which could have been real.
Shane finally hauled himself up to a sitting position, and pressed his hand to Daryl's forehead.
"Well, your fever's gone," Shane said, "How you feelin'?"
"Good," Daryl murmured. He looked nervous. "What…uh…what happened?"
"You had a fever," Shane explained. "Spiked pretty damn high. I couldn't wake you up, so I called Merle. He helped me take care of you." Shane watched him closely, "You don't remember?"
"I think I do," Daryl muttered uncertainly, "Parts, at least. S'kinda…hazy, I guess."
"Well, considering how high your temperature went, I suppose I ain't surprised. But you still need to rest," Shane said.
Daryl nodded slowly. "Did I…do anythin'…?"
His eyes felt oddly dry, as if he'd been crying, and Daryl was starting to get worried.
"What—embarrassing?" Shane asked him. He smiled, "No more than usual."
The younger Dixon flushed.
"Can you two lovebirds shut your traps? I'm tryin' to sleep goddamnit," Merle griped.
Shane grinned and pulled Daryl into his chest, laying them both back comfortably.
"You heard him. Quit your yammerin'," Shane teased.
And even though Daryl was still reasonably anxious about what exactly he'd done in the last 24 hours, he knew better than to piss off Merle Dixon when he was trying to sleep. So despite the abject strangeness of being pressed between the boy he loved and his big brother, Daryl eventually allowed himself to seek out some of that rest Shane was so keen on him getting.